


So Viel Gemeinsam (So Much In Common)

by melanie1982



Category: antifandom of Hitler and Stalin
Genre: Angst, History, Longing, M/M, Other, Rejection, couldve been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27282832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanie1982/pseuds/melanie1982
Summary: Hitler wonders what could be, if only Stalin would have him.Fiction based on real people. As far as we know, the two never met in person.I'm not a fan of Hitler or Stalin; I truly don't know what prompted me to write this, other than perhaps the current political climate and all the  "us vs. them" mentalities.
Relationships: Hitler/Stalin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	So Viel Gemeinsam (So Much In Common)

Early 1941. Hitler, against the advice of all of his most trusted men, sought a meeting with Joseph Stalin. Stalin, against the advice of all of his most trusted men, agreed.

The meeting occurred in Stalin's lair, hidden deep beneath the streets of Moscow. Adolf took in the lavish furnishings: the rich tones of the wood, the smell of the leather armchair he declined the use of, the priceless original (or were they exquisite forgeries?) pieces of art adorning the walls. Inwardly, Hitler felt smugly superior to have his suspicions confirmed: Stalin was a hypocrite, preaching communism while secretly living a life of luxury. 

Stalin had been waiting, enjoying a glass of his favorite red wine diluted with water. He'd offered Hitler a glass, but, like the offer of a seat, this, too, was declined.

Adolf gestured towards Stalin's personal Leibwachter. "May we speak alone?"

Stalin paused, statue-still, considering it. "Dismiss your men, and I do the same."

Everyone else in the room had stared at the "other," incredulous, incensed at the very idea of leaving their charges unguarded. Adolf and Josef, however, would not be disobeyed, and, to a man, the guards filed out of the room, taking up their posts on their respective sides of the now-sealed door.

Hitler watched as Stalin turned to face his guest.

"So. You wanted to talk? My German is .. not good; please, let's not make any grand speeches."

Adolf had given a terse nod. "I have come to make a proposition. Your nation has much land, and many resources. You also have a great many Jews, and I am confident that my methods of dealing with them could work for Russia as well as they are working for Germany. If you and I were to join forces, we could form a great race. Together, we would be.."

"Unstoppable?," Stalin finished for him.

Hitler had nodded again, watching Stalin finish his watered-down wine. The glass had come to rest upon the desk with a subdued clink, and Hitler had twitched, appalled at the ring the moist glass would no doubt leave on that magnificent wood.

Stalin had begun to walk the length of the room, Hitler fixating on the man's measured steps, his mind occasionally drifting back to that wine glass, the bead of moisture sliding down the stem - 

"It wouldn't work. We do have many things in common: Power. Anger. Strong will. But there is something which I possess, something lacking in a man such as yourself, and it is that which tells me an alliance could never be."

Adolf had found himself piqued. "Oh? What is that?"

Stalin had smiled, and, for a fleeting moment, Adolf had felt a flicker of real fear. He had misjudged this man; something was definitely.. off, something which could not be attributed to amphetamine use or lack of sleep..

"You want to kill the Jews, the gypsies, the coloreds, and the sexually deviant, even the crippled; you see this as enough to cleanse your people of all impurities, to make Germany great again. It is not enough - not nearly."

Hitler had watched, on edge, as Stalin had taken up the glass, examining it in the light. As if it were occurring in slow motion, Adolf had watched as the body of that glass had been crushed to shards in Stalin's gloved hand. Hitler winced, imagining the pain of errant pieces piercing the glove, the ensuing blood - 

The detritus fell to the floor. Stalin moved closer, almost close enough to embrace, even to kiss. Adolf felt a thrill of revulsion warring with the desire to lean in; such a powerful man -

"I will do so much more than you. I will kill so many more - not only those who are different to myself, but those who are like me. Those who would usurp my authority, those who would plot against me if they had any hope of succeeding, even those who dare speak, write, or think anything critical of me. History will remember my name; they will associate it with record bloodshed, numbers the likes of which the world has never seen."

Adolf felt himself go pale. "Your own people? You would risk wiping out your own kind, just to - ?"

At some unspoken signal, the door opened once more, and Hitler's men filed in, forming a human barrier between the two leaders, but not daring to turn their backs on their host.

"Mein Fuhrer, our host's attendants have informed us that it is time to leave."

Adolf noticed the men now flanking Josef, their trigger fingers twitching. He nodded, gave a little bow, then walked out with as much dignity as he could salvage in the light of such rejection and insult.

Hitler had time to ponder it all the way home on the train. A man so mad with the desire to rule that he would slaughter his own, regardless of merit, no mercy, no remorse.

Yes, Adolf had underestimated the man. Still, there was no way Josef would outdo him; no one could outkill the glorious German people in their pursuit of racial purity..

..could they?


End file.
